Matthew’s Semibig Adventure
by Niloberger
Summary: has to much to drink. It’s sort of fallows context to Alice in Wonderland.


Author: Me  
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Canada /Republic of Ireland /France(later), and a little of America/England of coarse  
Rating: T or PG-13. After a night of drinking what would you expect?Warnings: Matthew has to much to drink. It's sort of fallows context to Alice in Wonderland.  
Summary: We all know that Matthew is the most forgotten when it comes to APH and Canada is looked upon as America even though it's far from reality. What we seem leave out of this concoction we call APH is something I decided to reveal. Not only is Matthew's quiet life quite entertaining but the scenarios that run around in his head. I will warn you now that if you read this you may die from laughter, a chain reaction of your head exploding from the subtle 'awesomeness' that Matthew exhumes, or possibly indigestion…  
PS: This is a Fanfic for APH fans. I in no way claim to be a good writer. If there are a few tangled words forgive me! I am terribly dyslexic. x;

Hello. My name is Colonel Buckingham and I am told I am the queen of France.

I'm sitting here and I am currently waking up.

There are figures standing around uhm I think they may be looking at me.

Oh-

They are looking at me.

Why would they be looking at me?

It's creeping me out.

Wait wait wait-

Let me back up just a tad.

Hello there friend my real name is Matthew Williams.

If you don't remember it it's okay. People tend to just call me Maple when they forgot my name. So I put it on my flag.

Anyway

It's so rare that I chat but I guess sense you're just reading this out of boredom I will scurry it along.

It all started yesterday-

Matthew's Semi-big Adventure. - - - -

"Hey Matt hurry up or I'll forget you and leave you standing some place again! Remember what happened in Paris?? You almost got kidnapped and may have been the actress in a foreign pornography."

Matthew looked over the railing on the small balcony. He was dragging his bear and is luggage, which was a heavy load put together. His glasses were tilted on his face leaving only one eye to view Alfred who was staring at his wrist watch and muttering something about how he was always late. It was funny just then Alfred reminded Matthew of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Off to see the queen of England for a very important date.

This amusing thought was interrupted though when he was too over barring and tripped on his pant cuff, almost tumbling down the stairs if he hadn't been holding onto his Polar Bear.

"Matthew!! Oh geez. For someone with a shot like yours you really have no inner balance do you?"

Alfred's voice was half panic, half sigh, with a tint of laughter. But that went away when his phone alarm rang. Matthew remembered setting it earlier. It was quiet and you could here the small clock just tick-tock, tick-tock. He remembered he set it 5 minutes early for Alfred even though Alfred had asked him to set it, "On the dot!" Even though Matthew knew this if he tried to tell him, Alfred would only ignore him in panic. So he hadn't tried to anymore.

"Aw shit. _Kumajiro_! Please get our luggage into the car I have to grab my jacket."

With this Matthew sat up watching Alfred hustle to the mud room. Why bring the jacket? He looked nice in the dress shirt. Matthew would never tell him that but he thought it.

Kumajiro then nipped the cuff of Matthews's shirt and proceeded on helping him up before nudging him to move along. The bear then made his way over to the one suitcase Matthew had packed and bit at the leather strap that held a small key-chain with a small British Flag, an American flag, a French flag, and then a larger Canadian flag.

Matthew nodded and fixed his glasses before grabbing his carry-on bag and making his way down the stairs.

This was just a completely normal day-

A completely normal visiting trip-

A completely normal plane ride-

A completely normal, 'forgetting Matthew at the baggage retrieval'

A completely normal ride to Arthur's, which was completely normal.

All normal.

What was bothering him though was that they were visiting on Canada Day. It was okay that Alfred forgot and if Arthur did too that would be alright as well. He didn't want anyone to be sour over that type of thing anyway.

But what he kept thinking about was with Alfred as the rabbit and Arthur as the queen- What was he?

He couldn't be Alice. He didn't think he was that important. Who could he be?

Mad hatter? No that must be Ivan Braginsky.

The reason behind that was when Ivan came to his home and asked him to become "One with Russia." He remembered the reasoning to. Vodka goes great with Maple Syrup.

No no no!

Well if not the Mad hatter then- Cheshire Cat?

He did disappear. He did always smile. Maybe then he was the cat? But- the Cheshire cat was crazy. Was Matthew particularly crazy?

"Matthew. Matthew?. . .MATTEW!!"

Matthew jumped out of his head and out of his seat a little. Alfred was staring at him halfheartedly from outside of the car as his door hung open.

They were at Arthur's house already.

"Matthew we're hear. If you do that you know I will forget you. When you go into your head like that it's like your not even here! Now I'm going ahead I will see you in there."

With this Alfred closed the door and walked towards the villa with his luggage in hand. Matthew got his things together hopping Kumajiro had enough to eat at Alfred's. He knew once the bear got hungry he would rummage through the house and eat anything that could fit part way In his mouth. If that happened again Matthew would have to fix it up and at worse would have to make pancakes for Alfred for a month. Not even Matthew could eat Pancakes everyday! There would have to be "Canadian" bacon or coffee or maybe French toast.

Matthew walked up to the house and turned the knob.

_It's locked._

Just a completely normal day.

Matthew sighed and set down the luggage before looking around. Now you may not know this about Matthew because while Alfred's and Arthur's lives are being expressed in detail Matthew is quietly ignored.

But Matthew himself is quite talented in the art of, Ninja.

What?

No wait let me explain. To be a ninja one must be sneaky, stealthy, and unnoticeable. Matthew was good at this.

_So then, _Matthew thought to himself, _How would they do this on Power Rangers?_

_Well first maybe the red one would call everyone and then-_

_The blue and the black would make trampoline with their hands and then-_

_The pink one would do a flip and fly through the window._

. . .

Matthew peaked from his spot on the doorway to the unopened window. That wouldn't work.

Okay so maybe he wasn't as Ninja as he thought he might be.

It was getting dark too.

It was Canada Day.

Matthew stood there quietly thinking to himself.

He decided against injuring himself and placed his things close to the door so that if it decided to rain they wouldn't get damp. He then walked to the side of the house and decided to take a walk in the city.

The city of London.

The city was quite small actually and was about a good 2 miles from Arthur's house but that was nothing. At home he would struggle through blizzards for 7 miles before reaching a town. If you wanted to experience summer you'd have to go to Ontario perhaps or some warmer providence.

London really wasn't tough to get around in. The people kept to themselves. No hi, or ello, or talk about the weather just made there way around the city quietly.

This wasn't the way to Celebrate Canada Day.

Even though he doubted anyone would be celebrating it here he decided to celebrate the traditional way.

So he found himself a pub.

Now if you remember Matthew's day was quite normal. But after he got in that pub-

Well. . .

That was just the beginning of Matthew's Semi-big Adventure.

**Back to the Present. Colonel Buckingham, Queen of France- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **

"Hey kid! You alright? Why are you nodding off here? If you aren't careful some bloke will be sure to come along and make you out to be a dead fish."

Matthew looked up groggily to one of the figures. His depth perception was coming back now and he could see that it was a man. He was a bit old and pudgy and seemed to be cleaning a cup. Matthew must have blacked out on the bar.

"I must say though, you had a lot in you to take down our champion. He is from Ireland you know, a true drinker. Now whereabouts it you said you were from?"

Matthew stared at the bar tender for a moment trying to comprehend everything around him. There were glasses in front of him but he couldn't tell how many. They were real fuzzy looking like that rat Ron Wesley had turned into a cup on Harry Potter.

"Kid? What's wrong? You're squintin' a bit. Ah y'know what? Now that I think about it you did come in with a pair of glasses. You must have lost them though when you were changing."

. . .

_What?_

The confused look on Matthew's face made the bar tender smile and set down the glass he was cleaning.

"Alright lad let me fill you in. You are in North Ireland. The boys said they picked you up in a London Pub after they found you singing the British national anthem in French while telling everyone that you were a cat. They said they had so much fun with ya' they brought you back here. Said it wouldn't be right to have someone as fun as you in foggy old London town."

The bar tender laughed before sticking his thumb in the direction of a pair of young Irish boys who were dancing and playing. One boy was doing some sort of jig with the ladies while the others were drinking and singing.

_Was this place really part of the UK??_

"If you have any questions Colonel I'd get your answers from McFarland if you can get him to focus long enough."

Matthew nodded and the bar tender smiled before going to greet another fellow that sat at the bar.

He looked back over to the Irish boys gathering up what kind of people he had just been doing. . .well whatever the bloody hell it was they were doing. Wait. . .why was he changing?!?

Matthew didn't think about asking when the bar tender had been talking to him and-Wait. Did he call him Colonel?

Matthew looked down to his attire to see if at least he had clothes on. God only knows how many times we woke up in a nudist bar. . .He visited France on big holidays.

Matthew was wearing a brown vest and a white dress shirt that was neither tucked in nor buttoned all the way. He was also wearing a pair of rather tight jeans that were a damp color blue and had a note in his shirt pocket.

Matthew took the note out and put it up to his face in order to read it without his glasses. No use.

"Mornin' Colonel! Had a good coma I see."

Matthew looked up only to see one of the Irish boys standing over him. This one was the one dancing with the ladies that were now sitting and staring curiously from a small table booth.

The boy had red hair that was kind of long and freckles speckled on his face. Matthew's eyes fallowed the freckles until they hit the shirt collar and disappeared then reappeared on the boys hand as reached out to put his hand on Matthew's shoulder. The boy was smiling and you could see some sort of mark on his left eye. Maybe it was a birth mark but it had a strange appearance of a clover.

How cliché.

"C'mon mate the red heads really enjoy the Frenchies. Got a thing for it I'm not sure why. I tend to think they are rather stuck up. . . uh I mean. Well not you. You're too much fun to be a Frenchy. What are ya' then? Swedish? Ya' look like a man that enjoys his schnitzel."

"Uhm. . . schnitzel is Germ-"

Before Matthew could even explain himself the Irish boy was dragging him along by his unbuttoned cuff to the small both were the girls were now giggling. The Irish boy pushed Matthew into the booth and took a seat opposite of him next to a young girl who was obviously sexually activated. Like a light switch or something.

"Ello dear. Your shirt is all messed up should I button that for you?"

"So I hear you are French. How's it like? Paris. I've always wanted to see-"

"See now I knew you would look good with the glasses off. Like a whole new man."

"Ah yes a very handsome one at that."

"And parting your hair different really made all the difference you look very switched on."

"Girls girls! Give the man some time to breath."

Matthew looked over to his abductor thankful that someone had said something to stop this one tracked conversation. He was now at the edge of his seat trying to avoid getting mauled by the 3 women who seemed to only be preoccupied with touching his hair and uh his shirt and uhhhhhhh. . .

"Eh?! "

Matthew jumped a bit before closing his legs and almost falling out of the booth.

"Uhm uh. . .I'm contrary. I mean no- I am switched off. In fact madam I do not own a switch at all. . ."

He could feel his face get warmer but it wasn't his main concern at the moment. He had no idea how he got these particular clothes on but he would rather like it if, for now, he could keep them there.

Matthew collected himself and decided if he must talk to the he would focus on a less. . .A less curvy item. So he decided to stare at the beer bottle the young Irish boy had just set upon the wood table.

"Uhm, I'm not French exactly I'm Canadian."

**_Silence. . ._**

"What's Canananaada? Is it a city in France?"

"Duh Courtney! He said he wasn't French so it has to be Swedish."

"No Canananaada is like Mexico."

_No. This can't be part of the Uk. Not even America was this stupid. Well- No wait I take that back._

"Oh a Canadian then, eh?"

Matthew looked to the Irish boy, a bit surprised, ignoring the sarcastic "eh?" he had added to the end of his question.

"Ladies if you could accompany my friends a bit we have some importance business to discuss."

The boy looked at Matthew for a moment before setting down his beer and unlatching his arm from one of the girls who automatically pouted when it left her waste.

"Aw come on now Patrick we know you two will just be talking about which one of use you like best."

"No way! That's filthy!!"

"It must be me then-"

"Ladies drinks are on me."

Patrick stood up to let the girls out of the booth and displayed the bar with his hand.

Matthew 's eyes fallowed the girls as they smiled amongst each other and left towards the bar. He had to make sure all of them were there. . . 1 2 3. Okay. His clothes were safe.

"You can close your mouth now Colonel Buckingham."

Mathew straightened himself up as much as he could. He didn't know his mouth was open and he knew it was rude even if he hadn't quite sobered up yet.

"Eh? Oh no. . .you see that's not my name. Well I mean my name is Matthew Williams not Colonel Buckingham."

Colonel Buckingham?! How many drinks did Matthew guzzle down?

The Irish boy or Patrick as the girls referred to, was laughing now. Was his name funny?

Usually in this sort of situation Matthew would just smile but he had no energy using all of it to focus on the blurry figure sitting across from him.

"Ahaha. I know your name is Maitiu but sense you told us your name was Colonel Buckingham and that you were Queen of France I found it easier just to call you that. You wouldn't respond to Maitiu when we called you so."

Matthew could feel his face redden a bit. He must have really got wasted.

"It's been quite a while cousin that I was surprised to find you in England especially on Canada Day."

Uhhhh. . .what?!?

Matthew gave up on trying to think and slowly laid his head on the table looked towards the wall.

His head hurt,

He was wearing different clothes,

He was almost rapped by 3 women,

And now it was just all way to over his head.

Usually at this point Alfred would come busting in or Arthur would yell in his ear to sober up or even Francis would at least try to. . .Okay so Matthew didn't want Francis to show up.

He felt the booth jolt and saw that Patrick had moved over so that Matthew could see him from his surrender in trying to comprehend or pretend he could comprehend any further.

"My name is Patrick Gaelic McFarland and I am The Republic of Ireland. Now I'm not technically here because I'm sure if that stiff found me walking around North Ireland I'd be sent back to my place with boot shaped print on me butt."

Matthew thought a bit lifting his head up even more slowly then he had placed it down onto the table. It hurt his head to think but he had remembered Ireland. They used to call him Gaelic if he remembered right. Uncle Gaelic because the age was so different but as he recalled- Iggy and Gaelic never really liked each other.

Surprise surprise.

Matthew sat up sighing as he began to fidget with what he thought was a button the top of his shirt. Some buttons were randomly out and he didn't think the shirt was buttoned up right at all.

What the hell happened?

"Listen Patrick, even though I'm sure I had fun I really should be going. I'm not actually sure how to get back but I'm sure I will find some way. I was just wondering. . ."

Matthew moved in closer to Patrick- about ear level.

"Where are my clothes and. . .What are these?"

Patrick smiled and patted Matthew on the head once before stifling another outburst of chuckles as he had let lose before.

It took him a moment before he laid his green eyes back on Matthew and slipped his other hand under his chin so that he could rest it and look at Matthew from the side.

"I must've been so long Maitiu. You were so cute when you asked to be my lucky charm."

. . .

Matthew, after turning red of course, as slow as he had before, placed his head back on the table but this time face down.

He didn't want to think about it.

He didn't want to know.

He just wanted to go in his happy place were clothes were worn. Lots and lots of clothes.

"Maitiu?! Maitiu!! Oh come on Maitiu I was just having a wee bit of fun. I didn't find your pot of gold, I didn't get 'lucky', I didn't conquer the dragon's den, I didn-"

Oh.

There were more puns.

But Matthew just tuned them out. He was running through a field of britches and here even the britches had britches. Coat trees and leather smocks filling in as dirt. It was hard to tune it out, the series of puns, as Patrick's booming laugh entered the dream and britches decayed, panties became edible and cannibalistic, and shirts flew away-

It was like he was in a Monty Python movie.

"Oh c'mon! It didn't go down that way. You came in and you were telling everyone how if the Queen of Hearts is the Queen of England then you get to be the Queen of France. After your shpeal you tripped on what seemed to be air and knocked a pint on your clothes. You are wearing some of may older ones. A perfect fit I do say."

Relieved Matthew slowly came back to life but left his head on the table. The table was wood but felt cool on his blood rushed head. He didn't feel like moving.

"But man, if I didn't save you from those Brits who knows what would have happened?

You were telling them you were Colonel Buckingham and that you eat pirates for breakfast and meowed every time someone offered you a drink. If I hadn't dragged you out of there you either would've been killed or rapped. Or worse case scenario, both."

What sort of conclusion was that? All Matthew had remembered was that everyone there was minding their own and Matthew was doing what he usually did. Blending in.

"But it was cute. Me and the guys took ya' here and the whole time you decided to sing some sort of French song about bells. When you were done with that you asked us if we tasted like Strawberries-"

"I would never say something like that!"

At least Matthew would never say that aloud. He remembered pondering once if America tasted like Cheeseburgers or if Arthur tasted like tea. If that were true he remembered think he might want to taste like vanilla. That way when he ran out of vanilla flavoring for his coffee he could just put his finger in his cup and WALLA! But he would never say something like that out loud.

"Oh but you did. Your reasoning was that we were red and green so we had to taste like strawberries and that you didn't get to eat so many strawberries because strawberries like it hot and you were kind of cold. But you did tell us how you probably tasted like Maple Syrup. Don't you want to know why?"

Matthew waited a moment. No, he really didn't want to know. Yes, he knew he was going to say it anyway.

"Well you said it was because you were sticky and good with pancakes."

Okay. Matthew knew now why he should never talk. It was all clear to him now. His thoughts are better left in his head.

I mean really? Sticky and good with pancakes. Wow.

"But don't worry your drunken innocence remains intact. Well besides the lasses feeling you up a moment ago."

"Never mind that. I need my glasses! You see, I have this note in my pocket but I need to be able to see to read it. It's hard enough just to focus on the blurry objects around me."

Matthew sat up and pointed to his eyes. He tapped the side of his head a couple times to make it look as though if he had had glasses there he would've pushed them up.

For some reason that made Patrick smile but it disappeared when Matthew looked at him seriously.

He needed his glasses. He was blind as a bat without them.

"Well you see. . .about that. When you changed you lost or glasses so I took you back in the bathroom to look for your glasses and you accidentally stepped on them. I had to dispose of the glass because you started crying and telling me that your heart just broke. You kept saying that that stupid twit broke your heart and kept apologizing to it. Which reminds me. . . do you usually get drunk? Because you must have one a hell of a time."

Matthew sighed. Here was another thing he'd rather keep to himself.

The reason why he probably said that was because when he was little Alfred would always brake his dainty things. Like glass cats and glass vases and also glass cups. But once Alfred broke his glass heart and instead of crying he told Alfred it was alright that it was only glass. But he remembered he wanted to cry. That glass heart was given to him by an Eskimo before France found him running around as Kanata. The heart melted but Francis had put some in a little glass shaped heart and he put it under his pillow. Francis had told him that each drop was an Eskimo kiss and Eskimo kisses make dreams come true.

Funny what you remember when you get drunk.

"No. I mean I drink a lot. I drink beer and I drink wine and sometimes even Vodka if I'm really cold but I am good at holding drinks. At least I thought I was. In order for me to get this wasted I must have had. . .well a lot I suppose."

"I suppose so."

Patrick said with a matter of fact smile.

A moment went by and Matthew felt strangely contented. Not only was he talking, and talking about things he'd rather not talk about, but with a stranger. That was to out of character for him and he hadn't minded it one bit.

Patrick then stood up and grabbed Matthew's unbuttoned cuff and tugged him lightly.

"Come along now Maitiu we are going to get you some temporary glasses."

With this Matthew let himself be tugged along as the walked out of the Irish pub and to a store which looked to have a fuzzy green cross on it. Well maybe that was just his vision making it fuzzy.

When they walked in Patrick put his hand on Matthew's head and told him to just stand there a moment. When he came back he put a small red case in his hand.

"Now they only had reading glasses, but I got you something better. These are prescription contacts the store owner had bought for his daughter. His daughter, though, had bought color contacts and refused the gift. I told him our predicament and he gladly let us have them. I'm not sure if they're your prescription but I hope they are some use."

Matthew held the small case in his hand and nodded. He had never put in contacts before.

"Matthew, good luck. I'm heading out now I have to catch my ride back to South Ireland. I was hoping to see you at least half way back but that doesn't seem a possibility now. You have about 30 pounds worth in your right back pocket- don't' thank me you earned that on your own."

Patrick took a step but stopped himself to look back at Matthew forgetting to tell him something.

"I took the liberty of calling the number on the note in your pocket. I was really surprised when he answered the phone. I hadn't talked to him in a while but I guess I shouldn't be surprised his number is probably floating around half of Europe with his STDs."

How did he-

Matthew felt his pocket but then realized that the paper was in his hand with the small red case.

Damn. He was good. More of a Ninja than Matthew could ever be.

Wait. . .he? Who had Patrick called? Did Patrick mention a name? Was he messing with him again? His head hurt when he thought. Patrick winked at Matthew as walked past him.

He was chuckling again.

"He is on his way to Arthur's too. If you're lucky you two might just run into each other. That is if you have the luck of the Irish."

Matthew watched as the blurred figure left the store before the panic really settled in.

He was at some weird store in what might be North Ireland with no memory of how he got there.

This wasn't Eurotrip.

**End Of Part 1- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

**Notes From The Author:**

Hi! :D  
I had started writing an epically long story for here [uhm about 27 pages long so far o__o]  
but it got boooooooooring.  
So I thought I'd live it up with our Northerly neighbors, eh? :D

But this was so much fun!  
Not only did I get to use Matthew's quiet skills to a certain advantage but included a rather. . . inclusive side to him.  
A very imaginative one.

Alright so I introduced my interpretation of what the Republic of Ireland would be.  
Let's brake him down shall we?  
Oh I think we shall.

**Country:** Republic or Ireland, formally plain old Ireland.  
**Name:** Patrick Gaelic McFarland  
**Eyes:** Green  
**Hair:** Red  
**Appearance:** He has a small scar on his left eye that healed in the shape of a four leaf clover. The boy is covered in freckles and is a little taller than Arthur- about 2 inches.  
**Background:** The English crown did not begin asserting full control of the island until after the English Reformation, when questions over the loyalty of Irish vassals provided the initial impetus for a series of military campaigns between 1534 and 1691. This period was also marked by an English policy of plantation which led to the arrival of thousands of English and Scottish Protestant settlers. As the military and political defeat of Gaelic Ireland became more clear in the early seventeenth century, the role of religion as a new division in Ireland became more pronounced. From this period on, sectarian conflict became a recurrent theme in Irish history.

The overthrow, in 1613, of the Catholic majority in the Irish parliament was realised principally through the creation of numerous new boroughs, all of which were Protestant-dominated. By the end of the seventeenth century all Catholics, representing some 85% of Ireland's population then, were banned from the Irish parliament. Political power rested entirely in the hands of an Anglo settler-colonial, and more specifically Irish Anglican, minority while the Catholic population suffered severe political and economic privations. In 1801, the Irish Parliament was abolished and Ireland became an integral part of a new United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland under the Act of Union. Catholics were still banned from sitting in that new parliament until Catholic Emancipation was attained in 1829, the principal condition of which was the removal of the poorer, and thus more radical, Irish freeholders from the franchise.

The Irish Parliamentary Party strove from the 1880s to attain Home Rule self-government through the parliamentary constitutional movement eventually winning the Home Rule Act 1914, though suspended on the outbreak of World War I. In 1922, after the Irish War of Independence and the Anglo-Irish Treaty, the larger part of Ireland seceded from the United Kingdom (UK) to become the independent Irish Free State — and after 1948 the republic, Ireland. The six north eastern counties, known as Northern Ireland, remained within the United Kingdom. The Irish Civil War followed. The history of Northern Ireland has since been dominated by sporadic sectarian conflict between (mainly Catholic) Nationalists and (mainly Protestant) Unionists. This conflict erupted into the Troubles in the late 1960s, until an uneasy peace thirty years later.

(thank you wikipedia!)

**Personality: **Patrick is easy going, loves rain and the smell of dew, loves castles and tree gnomes, and above all hates UK (Northern Ireland)! :D  
That's why you will come to see him and France are good friends when it's convenient to pick on Iggy.  
Sorry Iggy dear, you really pee'd a lot of people off o__o;  
Anyway, Ireland is very laid back. He has been known to get _very_drunk and only likes to have a good time. If you bring up the past he is the type of person to make jokes at a funeral. He tries to see the light of a situation and in a lot of ways is somewhat mysterious. With his starvation and many troubles in the past he disappeared for a long time only to reappear some time after WW1.  
I like to think of Patrick as Iggy's opposite twin.  
Oh, and each one of his freckles has a story.

Okay!!  
Enough about Mister Patty.  
Some things that may have confused you:

Canada Day is Canada's release from the government ruling of Great Britain. It is celebrated on July 1st.

Canadian northern provinces are the, "North American Russian Outposts."  
Very cold and very polar bear habitual.  
The only people that live far up north tend to be Eskimos (and the crazies o__o).

This quote from the bartender:

"If you aren't careful some bloke will be sure to come along and make you out to be a dead fish."

A dead fish is a reference to a cooked bird. Okay, maybe using another unfamiliar analogy, to some, may not help.

A dead fish is a reference to getting it on with an unconscious person. Usually referring to females.

Thank you for barring with me!! I'm extremely dyslexic so it took a very long time to write the simplest of things.

I know my way of writing is weird because I love small structures. Like a "paragraph" of maybe 4 sentences. I don't write this this all the time just when it comes to this sort of thing. To me it just feels more organized. Hopefully you understand, when you're dyslexic it's either organization or mass chaos.

Part 2 is a ball.

I'm having so much fun writing it.  
It makes me smile :D - smiles!!


End file.
